Breck Poems

The selection of poems represented here are from the anthology 'The Falcon Songs', a book of unpublished metaphorical sonnets and verse which entwine disparate ideas with allusions of falconry. They were inspired by medieval English poets such as Sir Thomas Wyatt, Spencer and Shakespeare, as well as modern poets such as Ted Hughes and Thomas Hardy.

Sweetness Sitting by my Side Unhooded by the Glare (CCLII)

Sweetness staying by my side unhooded by the glare

Of strange and wondrous sights which all abound,

Rejoicing with a shake, arousing fresh the morning air,

Looks deep upon the choices all around;

Then off into the open sky she doth herself take sail,

While I encumber'd by my past must witness from afar,

Hoping harm, from threats abroad, shall come to no avail,

As she shall learn to find her way to reach her distant star;

Then with what fear is my heart fill'd, when there she doth construe

Mercurial meditations, with Apollo's jealous burn,

Apart, to disappear withal, beyond the endless blue,

Or burst once more upon our sight and to my love return?

My falcon sweet, do as though must, as I shall here remain,

Retaining all the bitter joy such beating hearts contain.

Feb 2012

The Bright and Empty Plain Leads Far Away (CCXLII)

The bright and empty plain leads far away,

Off to the furthest reaches of despair,

Yet still some tough contenders have to stay,

To weather out the harshness they find there;

With large wide eyes and pointed upright ears,

The desert Lepus, frozen fast in bearing,

Leaps from form at speed in fervent fear,

A panic mirror'd deep within her glaring,

Since dazzled by the sharp and seering sight,

Of a sheering falcon falling, down from solar flares,

Its shadow chasing close her fierce flight,

Shape-shifting 'cross the sand toward the hare.

Watch close as all three haste, as so they must,

To all converge as one, then turn to dust.

Nov 2011

The Hawk (CLIX)

The Hawk,

Owning the tree tops


At death,

Its conscience ringing hollow

With the echo

Of its hollow bones:

A living weopon,

Intent on destruction,


In its own armoury;

Tempered by a mortal memory

Forged from a primal age

Of ruthless lizards;

Designed by life

To rip

And render sweet memories


The orbs of its sharp eyes

Reflecting another world,


In slow-motion,

Until it launches,

And our Earth stands still

In expectation.

Aug 2011

Black, in the Blackest Pitch of Moonless Night (LXVIV)

Black, in the blackest pitch of moonless night,

It mantles o'er the hopes of each new day,

Beyond the view of all our tainted sight,

Yet ever present, watching, upon all mortal prey;

So doth Death stay, and in thought grimly burns,

Encloak'd in shade and preening by the hours,

With great golden eyes train'd on each one's turn,

To swiftly swoop and pounce as Destiny allows.

And as for us all unaware, uncertain of the score,

To take a slip too far or a moment unprepar'd,

Then all at once doth this dark menace draw

Our unready souls apart, curtail'd, no one spared.

Quite when or where he deadly falls we can but prick our ears,

Though he through curtains darkly closing silently appears.

June 2010

With Quickened Sense and Beating Double Time (XV)

With quickened sense and beating double time,

As testament to distant heathen drums,

Together captives tied in shackled rhyme,

Stand all in line , their destin'd time to come;

Then carried forth in fear, they reach the aerie tower,

From where the reigning gods survey the scene below,

And from this source of all despotic power,

Spread out their proudest feathers, all to show;

With daggers poised on each appointed one,

Emitting bloody cries, so strikes the fatal force,

Bearing high each beating heart, still steaming, to the sun,

So vastly unaware above, on its celestial course.

From deep and primal roots, innate within the seed,

Strange flowered forms evolve inwardly and feed.

Mar 2010

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